“It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”
She gave me a sly grin. “How do you like your job so far?”
“It’s not like anything I’ve ever done before. How long have you worked for Oceanus?”
“Since March. The park was closed a few weeks last winter and everyone was laid off. When they reopened, Mr. Austin hired almost all new people. Something about starting with a clean slate.”
“I didn’t realize the park was closed.”
“Mr. Austin wanted to do some renovations, and Rocky got sick.”
“Sick? He looks pretty healthy to me.”
“He’s fine now, but I guess back then he couldn’t do his tricks. Mr. Austin blamed the trainer.”
“Eddy Byron.”
“Oh no, Mr. Byron came to work here after Mr. Austin fired the old trainer. I don’t know the man’s name, but Mr. Austin said he was responsible for Rocky getting sick. At least that’s what Ben told me. I guess things were pretty crazy for a while.”
“So you came in as part of the new staff?”
“Uh-huh. I was friends with a girl who had this job. Sort of a glorified gofer. She expected to come back and was really upset when she heard they weren’t hiring old staff. She got a job at a ski mountain and moved to Colorado. I was looking for work. I came in one day and Mr. Byron hired me right on the spot. How’d you know about this place?”
“I heard through the grapevine that they needed somebody, preferably with diving experience. The fishing boat I work on is out of commission and I took this job to pay the rent.”
“I’m basically a summer kid,” she said. “My family built a house on the Cape years ago when I was little. I dropped out of college and I’m staying at the family house while I find myself.”
“Good luck.” There are probably hundreds of college-educated young people like Jill on the Cape who move into the family summer house to find themselves; most never do. “How was Eddy to work for, compared to say Mike Arnold?”
“Oh, he was okay, I guess. He could get down on you, but it wasn’t personal the way it is with Mike. And he wasn’t so arbitrary. I think Mike’s insecure, so he takes it out on people.”
“Is he a good trainer?”
“He’s very competent.”
“How does he compare to Eddy Byron?”
“I didn’t know Mr. Byron that well, but he was different, I think.”
“In what way?”
“I don’t know if he liked the animals, you know, like Sally. God, I think she’d go out on a date with a dolphin if it asked her.”
I stifled a snort. “I heard Eddy had a weakness for the grape.”
“Huh? You mean he drank. Oh sure, usually at the end of the day. That’s when he got really mean. The staff stayed out of the way. We couldn’t figure out why Mr. Austin put up with it, but he’s the boss. Well, I guess that’s all the fish we need. Thanks for helping.”
We scooped the fish into plastic buckets and washed up. She said good-bye and gave me a grin. “You remind me of my brother. He wears an earring, too. My father can’t stand it.”
I touched the gold ring in my ear. “My father can’t stand it either.”
Traffic on Route 28 was frozen solid like flies in amber. You can’t fight the Cape’s summer glut. You just have to expect delay. I was listening to Jimmy Buffet on the tape deck singing about sailing and hopping a plane and flying to Paris. A couple of minutes passed.
A break was coming in the oncoming traffic. I flicked my headlights, leaned on my horn, hooked a hard left on the steering wheel, and shot through the breach to a two-story brick building on the other side of the road. I parked next to a sign that said STATE POLICE and went inside the building. The cop behind the front desk took my name and picked up his phone. A minute later Parmenter came out and shook my hand. He was wearing his state-police uniform, the blue tunic and dark blue riding pants with the knee-high boots.
“Soc, what a hell of a nice surprise! Come on out to my office.”
He put his arm around my shoulder and guided me to a cubicle just big enough to hold a Parmenter, a desk, a phone, and a couple of chairs. I sat down in one of them and Parmenter went to get us some coffee. He returned with two paper cups, settled behind his desk, and looked at me. “How come you’re not in jail?”
“Beats me. Maybe it’s because I haven’t done anything wrong.”
He grinned. “How are you feeling?”
Parmenter’s sharp cop eyes must have noticed my face still looked pale and puffy. I tenderly touched the scalp above my right ear. “I’m a little sore, but my head is still attached to my shoulders, so I can’t complain.”
“You’re damned lucky the town cops didn’t drill you full of holes.” He raised an eyebrow. “This social or business?”
“A little of both. First the business. Has anything broken on the Hanley case?”
“Lieutenant Pacheco doesn’t confide in me, but I’ve got a couple of friends inside his department who say the investigation is dead in the water. No murder weapon yet. They’ve had divers in the river. No apparent motive. No enemies anyone knows of. He was probably killed less than an hour before you found him. Shot with a twenty-two which wouldn’t have made much noise.”
“So where’s he go next?”
“Pacheco would love to pin the thing on you, but the DA won’t go for it on the basis of the evidence so far. Just don’t get too cocky.”
“I won’t. Would you keep an eye on the case for me, John? I don’t want any surprises.”
“I’ll do my best, Soc.”
I stood up to go.
“Thanks, John. That’s all for the business part. I just wanted to tell you it was good to see you the other night. And not just because you saved my ass, although I’m grateful for that, too.”
“The feeling is mutual, Soc.”
We looked into each other’s eyes in the way men can do without embarrassment when they’ve both loved the same woman. We shook hands then I went out to my pickup and rejoined the folks who were spending half their vacation stuck in traffic.
Chapter 16
The Millie D was moored in a jog next to the fish pier. Sam saw me drive up and waved from the deck.
“How’s it going?” I said, climbing aboard. Sam opened his mouth and shut it as a pipe-factory clanging came from the engine compartment. A hoarse voice yelled, “Christ in the raging foothills!”
He jerked a thumb toward the bow and shook his head. “That’s how it’s going, Soc.”
A large greasy lizard emerged from the engine compartment. The lizard grinned. “Almost got it, Sam. Have to go back to the shop for another tool.”
Sam nodded glumly and introduced me to the marine mechanic. His name was Fred and he took our handshake as an invitation to bare his whole life in a stream-of-consciousness narrative. Where he was born, where he’d gone to school, how many times he’d been married (twice), how many kids he had (three), where they lived, and what they did. He rattled on for twenty minutes about everything except the state of the engine repairs. He paused to take a breath and that’s when I jumped in.
“Fred, how’s the work on the engine going?”
“Oh that,” he said absentmindedly. “Looks like the electrical system.”
“When do you think you’ll get it fixed?”
“Damn soon.” He looked at his watch. “Hell. Didn’t know it was so late. Got to be back at the shop for quitting time. Sam, I’ll be here first thing in the morning. But you’ll be able to take her out fishing tomorrow. Nice to meet you, Soc.” He climbed off the trawler and walked jauntily to his truck, first stopping to tell his life story to a couple of unlucky fish packers.
Sam watched him go. “I’ll be able to retire on all the fish that man has promised I’d catch,” he grumbled.
“Is there anything I can d
o?”
“Yep. Go down to the Catholic church and light a few candles. I’ll head over to see Charlie Jones the Methodist minister and promise to sing in the choir if he asks the Lord to fix the engine. That’s the only thing that’ll help us now.”
“Sam, your optimism is too much to bear. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
Kojak heard the truck drive in and was waiting for me just inside the front door. I gave him a can of 9-Lives tuna and egg and took the phone out onto the deck.
As I punched the numbers, I thought about Sally Carlin and wondered why she hadn’t liked my questions about Eddy Byron.
Jill’s revelations puzzled me, too. Closing the park for renovations made sense, but firing the staff didn’t. Rocky looked the picture of health. It was hard to imagine him sick. Do whales come down with the flu? Austin hadn’t mentioned the park’s closing or Rocky’s sickness. But he made it clear from the start he didn’t want me at Oceanus, so I couldn’t expect him to be forthcoming.
A woman said hello on the phone. I asked for Lew Atwood, who was the trainer Austin fired before hiring Byron. The woman said Atwood would be home later that night. I gave her my name and number and left a message asking him to call when he got in. I hung up and went into the boathouse to change for my date with Sally. I was laying out a clean navy shirt and a pair of pleated tan slacks I’d picked up for free at the Episcopal church clothes swap, when my phone rang.
It was my younger brother, George.
“Soc,” he said breathlessly. “Ma asked me to call. Can’t talk long. I gotta drive Maria to her girlfriend’s house. Have you seen Uncle Constantine?”
“Constantine? Last I knew he was coming up the inland waterway.”
“Yeah, I know. He called today from the Cape. Ma wasn’t around, and she wants to make sure he’s okay. She’s still ticked off because I didn’t ask where he was. The guy’s in his seventies for godsakes and tough as nails, but she’s worried he won’t get three meals a day. I can’t figure it, but you know how she is. Anyhow I gave him your number. He said he was going to celebrate the end of his trip. Has he called you?”
“Not that I know of. I’ve been home about an hour, but I was gone most of the day.”
“Great, damn, just great. Ma’s really getting on my case. Okay, Maria, I’m coming! Keep your pants on.” George was carrying on a conversation with his wife at the same time.
“George, you’ve got three cars. How come Maria doesn’t drive herself?”
“She says the Caddies are too big and the Cherokee’s too stiff to drive. C’mon Maria, you call that vulgar? I’ll show you vulgar. Okay, get the kids in the car, I’m coming.” Back to me. “Hey Soc, what do I know? I just go along. Married life, it’s great. You ought to try it sometime.”
“Thanks, George, maybe I’ll get lucky someday. What does Ma want me to do?”
“Check around. You know lots of people down there. Maybe they’ve seen Constantine’s boat.”
“The Cape is bigger than people think, and there are a hell of a lot of boats here this time of year, but I’ll see what I can do. If I get any news on Uncle Constantine, I’ll give you a call. You do the same.”
“Will do, Soc. All right, okay, Maria. Sorry, got to go. Bye.”
I stared at the phone and shook my head. Then I got dressed for my date.
Sally Carlin lived on the second floor of an old carriage house that had white clapboards and black shutters. It was a spacious sunny apartment with a wood stove and a view of the Sandy Neck dunes through the big picture window. Sally was wearing a sleeveless bluish purple summer dress that picked up the color of her eyes. She had let her hair tumble around her shoulders.
Kissing me lightly on the cheek, she took my arm and guided me to a comfortable leather living-room chair. She asked if I liked Campari and soda. I said yes and she went into the kitchen to make us drinks. The living room was done in an eclectic combination of contemporary chrome and glass and old wood. Most of the photographs and prints on the walls had to do with the sea. Dunes, waves, boats. An Edward Hopper reproduction. A Cape Light poster by Joel Meyerwitz. Dolphins and whales under and over the water.
Sally came back carrying two glasses of ruby liquor that tinkled pleasantly. She sat on the hassock in front of my chair.
I tasted the cold bittersweet Campari. “How did you guess I was taking you to an Italian restaurant?”
“Intuition. It comes from working around marine mammals. You have to use a lot of nonverbal communication.”
“You find that helps you deal with humans?”
“Why not? We’re a lot alike in many ways. Both species are intelligent, emotional, childish.”
I nodded.
She sipped her Campari, looking at me over the rim of her glass, then set it down on a coffee table. “I have a confession to make. I wasn’t exactly candid with you at the park today when you asked me what kind of trainer Eddy Byron was.”
“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I was just curious.”
“Oh, I understand. The question just caught me by surprise.” She pondered for a moment. “You have to know there are all kinds of trainers. Most of them empathize with the animals. They know captivity can be a hardship and do their best to ease it. I like to think I’m one of them. Then there are others who think of the animals as performing machines. If they don’t work when you push the button, you tighten a nut here or rewire a new circuit there.”
She was trying to tell me something. “And Eddy was one of those?”
She smiled sadly.
“How do you rewire a dolphin or an orca?”
“You use operant conditioning. It’s a system of behavior manipulation, a combination of punishment and reward, but the punishment can be harsher than just walking away from an animal or denying it food. I’m talking about actual physical abuse.”
“Why would anyone do that? I thought dolphins are relatively easy to train because they’re smart and friendly.”
“That’s true, Soc. It’s not hard to take something the dolphin does naturally, like making those magnificent leaps out of the water, and connect the reward of fish to it. But the animals will balk at something they wouldn’t ordinarily do in the wild.”
“What kind of things?”
“Things like putting a bomb on a ship. Things like attacking divers and killing them.”
“Wow,” I said. “I guess you’re not talking about Oceanus.”
“No,” she said, her voice gaining an edge. “I’m talking about our own country’s Navy. They’ve been training marine mammals for warfare.”
“How successful have they been?”
“Successful enough to pour millions into research. I’m sure the Navy has kind trainers who treat the animals well, but I’ve read about the animals being held in small pens, beaten and kicked, and punished with electrical shock.”
“What does that have to do with Eddy Byron?”
“Eddy was part of a Navy unit that trained marine mammals in Vietnam.”
Sally’s accusation rubbed off. “Sometimes people use a broad brush on ex-Vietnam types like Eddy and me. Just because some marines killed women and children doesn’t mean we all did. Being part of the unit doesn’t mean he used the methods you’re talking about. Or that he brought his training ideas to Oceanus.”
She shook her head at my defense of Eddy. “But he did, Soc. He did.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw him.”
There was no mistaking the cold fury in her eyes. “Okay, I believe you. Tell me about it.”
She took a deep breath. “It was one night this spring. Eddy sometimes worked with the animals after the staff left. I stayed late in my office to catch up on paperwork. On the way out I went by to check the dolphins. Eddy was there. He didn’t see me at first. He was standing by the side of the pool. He was hol
ding a rod in his hand. I went over and asked him what it was. He tried to evade the question, but I kept on. He admitted that it was something like a cattle prod, and he was going to punish the dolphins. He said they had been giving him a hard time, being too aggressive, pushing him around when he was in the pool. I was appalled. I told him I wouldn’t allow that kind of treatment. He’d been drinking. We argued. I threatened to report him if I ever saw that thing again.”
“Why didn’t you report him then?”
“I should have. But I was confused, angry for not being aware of what was going on. The dolphins had been more skittish than usual; I should have sensed something was wrong. But the real reason I didn’t report him was that Eddy and I had been involved. Not a long time, a few months maybe. Later, I raged at myself for being so blind. I could have killed him. The next day I told him we were through.”
“What was his reaction?”
“Oh, he laughed. He said I had a lot to learn, not just about dolphins, but about men. I guess he was right about that.”
“Do you think he would have used the prod on Rocky?”
“Rocky is a different proposition. He’s bigger than the dolphins. And orcas are more independent. They may be more intelligent than dolphins. I don’t know. It would have been dangerous.”
“Maybe that’s the reason Eddy’s dead. It was dangerous. Maybe he tried punishing Rocky and the whale killed him.”
“It’s occurred to me, but I haven’t wanted to believe it.”
“Well,” I said, “is it possible?”
She got up, walked over to the picture window, and stared out at the bay. After a moment she turned and smiled. “I’m getting hungry. Do you think we could get something to eat?”
I looked at my watch and suggested it was time to dive into a bowl of linguini. We took the pickup to a restaurant in Hyannis that knew how to make pasta al dente. Neither one of us went for the linguini. I tried the manicotti and she had saltimbocca—veal with prosciutto and Marsala wine. We washed dinner down with a bottle of Chianti Classico and lingered over cups of cappuccino, talking about food the way people do when they’re eating.
Death in Deep Water Page 15